This Week's Topic is: 3 books you thought you’d hate but ended up loving
1. To Have and to Hold by Mary Johnston
I mentioned that I was homeschooled in this post. As a part of that, my mom traveled to curriculum fairs and teaching seminars on a regular basis. Usually we’d dread her return, because she’d be all fired up with new strategies and so many new TEXTBOOKS! It was overwhelming, to say the least. One time, though, she returned with this title and insisted on reading it to us almost as soon as she’d unpacked. I was ready to hate it. Had already decided on it. But the adventure! The romance! The historical setting! The story caught my attention in spite of myself, and I’ve re-read it several times since.
2. Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone by J.K. Rowling
For several years I lied to my swim lesson and swim team kids. That sounds really reprehensible, doesn’t it? What sort of role model was I? I, dear audience, was the girl who hadn’t read any Harry Potter, and didn’t want to. I didn't want to tell those kids that I hadn't read the books, either. I was determined to be the only person in my generation who hadn’t touched the series. I was sure they were badly written and not worth my time. Well, I was sure up until the night before I left for my second trip to Chile, when I realized I didn’t have any suitable books for the 10-hour plane ride. So I gave in and borrowed my roommate’s copies, and I ended up staying awake for hours to read them all. Suffice it to say…I was wrong.
3. At Home in Mitford by Jan Karon
My grandmother has had an amazing effect on my reading taste. No, really. She lives in upstate New York, and whenever she visits or I go to visit, I somehow end up reading one of her books. It’s uncanny, really. I am always sure that I won’t like whatever it is, and I’m always sucked in. This probably means that we have very similar taste. I try not to shudder at that, even though it’s true. So I was pretty positive that I wouldn’t like reading about a middle-aged priest in a small Carolina town…but it turns out I was wrong. I gobbled up the entire Mitford series in a month or two. And some Nicholas Sparks, and some James Patterson…and you get the idea. Books I usually don’t review here, but read guiltily and then give away to my local thrift shop.
What are three books you ended up liking in spite of yourself?